


Untitled

by CC99trialanderrorgirl



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Married Anidala, Married Sex, Squirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 03:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16865461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CC99trialanderrorgirl/pseuds/CC99trialanderrorgirl
Summary: Anakin makes Padme squirt like a porn star, in the most loving and beautiful way possible. Anidala Oneshot.





	Untitled

Padme was laid out on the bed in her spacious Coruscant apartment, her ceremonial skirts rucked up around her breasts. Anakin was kneeled at her side, fingers pumping in and out of her, the skin around his mouth wet and slick and sticky. He was not smiling, so concentrated was he on her pleasure. They made a beautiful picture, Padme looking somehow virginal and pure with her fat brown curls and pink cheeks, and her Jedi knight all in black, knelt on the floor at her feet.

After a while, Padme began to notice a concerning fullness in her lower abdomen. “Anakin, stop,” she tried to say, but it came out garbled, almost unintelligible. Still, he seemed to know what she was trying to say.

While both had been virgins on their wedding night a few months ago, Padme had been the one to come to the marriage with far less knowledge about sex. Anakin, with his preternatural intuition, talent for trouble, and background growing up as a slave, had seen parts of the world that the young Queen would have been shielded from. So when Padme startled and glanced down at her lower belly, he knew what might be the problem.

“Padme,” he spoke in that low, soothing voice she loved. “It’s alright. It’s not what you think.”

Then he grinned playfully and pressed down gently on her belly with the flat of his large palm. Padme jumped, eyes going wide.

“Anakin, no! I – I have to –“ She looked upset, but torn, glancing one minute at the closed door to her right and then sighing the next, melting under Anakin’s ministrations.

“You don’t,” he said softly. “Really.”

Then, “Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” Padme answered, her eyes burning. “Always.”

“Okay,” Anakin said. “Then let me do this for you. Trust me.” He said again, grinned that boyish smirk that drove Obi-Wan mad, and bent his head to his task.

As the speed and force of his fingers increased, Padme tried not to worry about the growing feeling of fullness in her belly. She felt alarmingly close to a disaster. But she trusted her husband, and she knew he would never humiliate her, no matter what happened in the next few minutes. Then the pressure increased.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, shocked and a little bit pained. It almost hurt now.

Anakin looked up as Padme shifted, and realized he’d rested his free hand across her lower belly. She’d jumped when he’d pressed down. Good, she must be ready soon. He grinned, and pressed harder.

Padme felt the pressure peaking, and at the same time, Anakin’s thrusting fingers seemed to press even deeper, and somehow _up_ , into her body. She squirmed, the sensation of pressure almost overwhelming now. All she wanted was release, relief. And yet…the sensation was a bit unfamiliar – different somehow – and not entirely unwelcome the way she was accustomed to it being. Curious, she tried to settle.

Anakin smiled. When he’d pressed down on Padme’s belly the last time, a few drops of clear liquid had emerged. Thankfully, Padme hadn’t seemed to notice the slight leak. That meant it was almost time. He hoped this would be good for her. She seemed a bit unsure, but like she was generally enjoying herself. He would cuddle her and cook her a nice meal his mother used to make back on Tatooine to apologize if she didn’t. Most of the time his intuition guided him well, but Anakin always worried about Padme’s complete and total happiness.

She shifted again, and this time, when he pressed down gently, she tried to warn him.

“Anakin, I think I’m going to-“

He cut her off with a gentle, knowing smile.

“You’re not, my sweet Queen,” he said. “I promise, I really don’t think that’s what this is.”

She came close to rolling her eyes, he could see it as he watched her. He slowed his movements experimentally, and she tried propping herself up on her elbows. The movement bent her lower half slightly, and engaged her abdominals. She gasped and flopped back down almost immediately.

“Oh Anakin, I-” she started. His wrist was wet where she’d leaked onto his skin, and the sheets beneath her were slightly dampened. But instead of looking like she might cry, Padme’s mouth was open and her eyes were screwed tightly shut.

“Anakin?” She asked quietly a moment later.

“I’m here,” he said, shifting so his mouth was nearer to her head.

“Is it bad that that felt amazing?” The nervousness in her voice was very sweet, but unwelcome. Anakin had long ago determined that Padme should never have occasion to feel unsure around him.

“Darling, not at all. I’m going to keep going, alright?”

Her eyes popped open, looking hopeful and dazed, the gaze of someone chasing sensation.

“Okay,” she breathed, looking him in the eyes.

Padme smiled, relaxed a little, and then screamed as Anakin pressed down on her lower belly hard, slammed his fingers into her, and pumped over and over and over again.

Padme bounced against the bed, her jaw set, muscles tense as she tried to resist the urge to let go.

“Let’s get you nice and full,” Anakin growled, his eyes looking dark now, his visage almost menacing as he focused on giving her what he knew she needed. Her dark knight, a black figure on the floor of her sunlight bedroom. He glanced to the open doorway behind him, and asked, “Are you ready?” His fingers never stopped pummeling her insides. The sensation of pressure built up from his ministrations was almost unbearable now, and very close to uncontrollable.

“Anakin, I can’t h-”

She looked up at him, trusting but a little fearful, and he took her hand for a moment.

He held her gaze, pressed three fingers of his free hand into her deep, and said, “I promise, you’re not about to pee. But even if you did, that would be okay.”

She laughed, then seized up, muscles clamping down in a habitual response to what she _thought_ this was.

“Really?” she asked, breathless. “Because I’m pretty sure I am!” Her voice sounded nearly hysterical, tinged with need and desperation, but still sounded like _her._ His love. Anakin smiled.

“I’m going to pull my fingers out now.”

“Okay,” Padme said shakily. It felt a bit like his fingers were the only thing holding things in. But the look on her husband’s face was knowing, loving, and she trusted him. “Okay, Anakin,” she said again.

She smiled, relaxed a little, and then screamed as Anakin pressed down on her lower belly hard, slammed his fingers into her one more time, pressing deep, and then suddenly pulled them out completely and moved them immediately onto her clitoris. The second his fingers rubbed over it, Padme felt herself shattering. Anakin watched with a sense of privileged awe as her back bowed off the bed and a thick, hard stream of clear liquid shot out from between her legs. He rubbed her furiously then, fingers flying over the skin of her clitoris, and he gently pressed downward over her lower abdomen. Padme _screamed_ , the pressure of the stream increasing. The reach of it, too. Anakin had watched in awe as his wife squirted across the room, but now the increased pressure was resulting in an even further-reaching stream, arching out through the open doorway and splattering all over the pink and gold striped wallpaper on the opposite side of the apartment. The stream slowed, then stopped, and then continued again in large, messy, multidirectional spurts, soaking the doorjamb and chandelier light above them and the gold duvet and most of Anakin himself, too.

Finally spent, Padme collapsed back onto the bed, twitching. Anakin immediately covered her with his body, kissing her pink, bitten lips and touching her everywhere he could reach.

“You were amazing, I - I –” he seemed lost for words.

Padme smiled, laughing full bodied and deep now. “I picked a good husband!” she exclaimed, and then kept laughing. Anakin laughed too, for a moment, but quickly sobered, looking deep into her eyes and holding her gaze.

“I picked a good wife,” he said, somber and intense.

Padme just smiled, and spoke the words they repeated whenever they were in private. “I truly, deeply, love you, Anakin.”

Anakin kissed her, pressing his response into her mouth; after all, she was already the breath of life in him.

 

 


End file.
